Monday, August 26, 2013

Doppelgangers

Here's an imagined family album of (mostly) photos of my uncle.

             Doppelgangers
                        1.
When my young Uncle Doug dresses
as Santa for my first grade class,
he decides to visit the next room
and meets a second Santa there.

                        2.
Posed in his football uniform,
he looks like the Heisman Trophy.
Poised on crutches, he looks like
Paul Newman in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

                        3.
Here’s Uncle Doug in naval uniform,
with rows and rows of midshipmen
before he left Annapolis.
Here’s Uncle Doug in coat and tie with
rows and rows of new Ford employees
before his promotions began.

                       4.
Back when everyone wore the same
tennis whites, my uncle stands with
Arthur Ashe as he hosts the Ford
tournament at Hilton Head.

                       5.
As his son Doug grows up,
he looks more and more like
his father, and his father looks
less and less like himself
though they still play tennis,
dress whites in the twilight.
  
                     6.
One patient dresses like another.
The hospital robes are standard issue.
So’s the liver cancer – as those greedy
cells keep doubling, doubling, doubling
until he was done.





Monday, August 19, 2013

After Apolo

No, the title is not a typo.  It's a too obscure reference to Apolo Ohno, the speed skater who spells his name that way.

      After Apolo

The bent old man
stoops his way down the street
like a wind-up speed skater,
a stuttering, slow motion shadow
of what, for all I know,
 he might once have been-
a flickering foreshadowing of what
we all might be,
of what I am becoming
as I round this crowded, lonely rink
one more time.



Monday, August 12, 2013

Drum Role

Here's some thoughts I had while watching the percussion section.

      Drum Role

The timpanist tunes by bending
low, eardrum to drumhead,
as if he’s hoping to hear a heartbeat,
like Lear leaning over Cordelia
listening for life and then making
his own mournful thunder.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Freedom

A very small poem on a very large topic.


    Freedom

A bird in the bush
is worth two
in the hand.